Protecting the Idiot
by Ezmi
Summary: It's a king's duty to protect his people, so isn't it a prince's duty to at least protect his manservant? Probably, but that doesn't mean Arthur won't gripe about it. Post 1x04. Gen-fic.


Hello, all! Thanks to my evil best friend and the Syfy channel I have now been hooked on Merlin. I was glad to see the huge wealth of fanfiction that has been written on this show but I was shocked not to see more fics from Arthur's (ignorant) point of view.

I tried to capture my take on Arthur here. He's proud as a peacock, he's a bully, he's an inconsiderate jerk and he's a really good, really strong man all at once. I hope I succeeded at giving that impression in this stream-of-consciousness piece.

This takes place just after the events in 1x04 "The Poisoned Chalice". Personally, I think they should have put this episode toward the end of the season so they could build off the camaraderie that builds between Arthur and Merlin by then. The fourth episode was way too soon.

And seriously, Merlin, the whole freaking goblet!

* * *

He is absolutely, completely and entirely stupid. That's the only possible explanation for it!

Here I am, standing in the doorway of my chambers, sweaty and hot from a long practice session with the knights. I was looking forward to a hot bath with clean, dry clothes on the side and possibly some fresh bread and meat from the kitchen.

What do I get instead?

Merlin. Sound asleep on the floor, leaning against the foot of my bed with my sword wedged between his legs, pointing upward. The sword, which he was supposed to have finished sharpening by now, is gripped between his legs in such a position that I have to wince just looking at it. He was probably trying to sharpen the tip but anyone on earth who holds a sword like that in order to sharpen the tip must be an idiot! What on earth made him think _that _was a better position than laying the flat of the blade across his knee? There's no better way to say it, he really is a complete idiot!

Of course, this is Merlin we're talking about. The idiot is implied.

That doesn't stop me from thinking it anyway. Or saying it or, better yet, yelling it at him. Whether it's three in the morning or half past noon yelling at Merlin never fails to satisfy at least some of my frustration with him.

Obviously the idiot doesn't care about any prospects of future children. Probably all the better that way; one of him is more than I should have to handle.

My first instinct is to yell at him, quite possibly even throw something at him, because really! I've been outside training half the morning in the hot sun and here he is taking a nap in _my_ chambers. I already have to rule the entire kingdom some day, to say nothing of guarding it with my life now. Is it too much to ask for a little service as I go about devoting my life and soul to Camelot!

No, its not. That is why I have a manservant, the same one that is currently shirking his duties and napping on my floor. Yes, yelling and throwing would be a good way to express my frustration and annoyance with him.

But this time I won't do it. Rather, I can't do it. I couldn't do it yesterday when I found him nodding off while sweeping my floor and I can't do it now. Yesterday I sent him back to Gaius; today I'll just do nothing.

Because three days ago Merlin was on his deathbed. Because four days ago he was dying and I couldn't get the image of him suffering out of my mind. Because five days ago he marched into a banquet, openly and loudly accused a visiting king of attempting to poison me and then willingly downed the entire goblet of poisoned wine himself at my father's order.

The whole goblet! He couldn't just take a little sip if he was going to put his life on the line for me, the idiot had to down the entire damned goblet!

Instead of yelling or throwing I just sigh, close the door and stalk across the room to my cupboard to take out a new set of clothes. No bath now, I guess. I don't have the time to wait for it even if I did wake Merlin. Father expects me within the half hour. And here I am taking my clothes out and dressing myself. I can't call for anyone else because they would see Merlin and wonder why I'm letting such flagrant disrespect continue in my presence.

I have a reputation to maintain, after all.

But I won't wake him now. I'll just yell at him more later to make up for it.

I'm finished changing and I kick the dirty clothes into the corner for him to deal with later. There, you see Merlin? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself! I can dress myself without a bit of aid. I don't need you so badly as I let you think. I do not need to depend on anyone! Being waited on is simply my right as the prince.

Any other servant in this castle is sensible enough to bow and scrape before me. They don't talk back to their prince or call him a 'pratt' or fall asleep when they should be working for him.

And yet I know my steps are far from the quietest in the castle, especially now, with my heavy boots and the weight of my mail on me. Merlin hasn't even stirred. Three days of recovery hasn't been enough.

Anger. Anger is far easier to deal with than concern, and a more fitting attitude for a king. A king like my father – _what was he thinking! Ordering Merlin to drink! By all intents poisoning him himself and then refusing to let me save him!_ _He should care about his people; he should want to save them! He should have let me save him! No matter the danger!_

No, those kinds of thoughts aren't going to help me now. He said he was proud of me, after all, he has realized that he was wrong.

Back to Merlin. You should be angry, or at least annoyed, with Merlin, Arthur. Not worried about him, annoyed with him. Just remember that.

Even the stupidest man should have some inkling of a survival instinct, some little voice in the back of his head that tries to stop him from doing something mortally dangerous. Not Merlin. He walks into Camelot and before he has even learned the streets he picks a fight with me. Not only is he completely ignorant of the fact that I am the crown prince, he even misses the obvious fact that _I am __**much**__ bigger than him_. Did he even notice the chainmail under my tunic, or did he think it was some new, shiny type of crocheted tunic the women of Camelot invented? My haulberk? My shoulder guard!

And ever since then, he has made a habit of jumping headfirst into danger without a thought. Getting in a mace battle with me when he clearly has no experience using one, pushing me out of the way when the false Lady Helen tried to kill me, and of course, the bloody icing on the cake, drinking an entire goblet of poison when he damn well knew it was poisoned too!

How on earth he survived long enough to come to Camelot is a mystery to me. Not just me, though, for I can see even Gaius' great mind can't unravel the Merlin puzzle. I've seen him gaping at Merlin with that same awestruck horror or confusion I've felt myself when the idiot opens his mouth or steps out of line and proves, once again, what a blazing _idiot_ he is. I'm not sure I will ever get past the amazement I feel when he yet again does something so characteristically _Merlin_. One would think he would learn. Eventually, at least! He has only been my manservant for a few weeks and already I'm starting to think that I'm going to be pulling his ass out of whatever fire he jumps into _this time_ for the rest of our days together.

Its hard to look at him, so relaxed and sleeping in such a ridiculous position, and work up the kind of furiousness I think I should feel about what he did. Instead I cross the room with steps that are deliberately quieter than before, swing the door open and closed quickly in case it decides to squeak or someone happens to walk by outside and close it securely behind me. He had better be awake by the time I get back from this audience. If he's not then maybe I should get Gwen to bring the other serving women and let them in to see the show. The human sword rack, ladies, feel free to giggle to your heart's content.

You're damn lucky you have me to get you out of these messes, Merlin. Most would have failed where I succeeded; most wouldn't have made it back to Camelot in time. Most wouldn't put up with your tardiness, your mouthiness or your impertinent grin. Most probably wouldn't have felt as wounded as I did when I thought I would never see that grin again. I had to save you, Merlin, you poisoned your damn self for me; I had to save you after that.

I know you didn't learn your lesson though. I saw it clearly enough when you turned that grin on me this morning while delivering my breakfast. The same passion, the same life that I had been so sure was all but lost a few days ago was dancing across your face. I groaned then, and this time the early hour was only part of the reason for it. I'm going to be doing this again, aren't I? I just know it; probably far sooner than I would like, too. Good heavens, Merlin, after looking out for you ruling Camelot as king is going to seem easy indeed.

Above all else I have been taught, it is that it's a king's duty to protect his people; that is my destiny as the crown prince of Camelot.

But seriously, does it really have to be my destiny to protect Merlin the Idiot as well?

* * *

Hmm, I think I missed my mark some. What do you think?


End file.
